A Prismatic Morning

I noticed a faceted glass prism hanging by a slender cord near the sunny window corner. Stepping softly onto the warm sill, I took my time to observe how it twirled. With steady patience, I extended the gentle curve of my trunk and gave the lowest glass facet a quiet tap. It swayed with a faint, crystalline ring. Instantly, scattered flecks of violet and gold danced across the painted trim and over my front paws. I rested my cheek against the warm wood, watching the bright spots float quietly in the morning calm.